Blind-Sided
by thefaultinmyst4rs
Summary: After a carefully guarded detective witnesses a domestic on the street between a blind man and his girlfriend, his life drastically changes.


**By no means do I own Sherlock, BBC does. **

**I don't know where I'm going to go with this.**

Sherlock will never forget the day he first met John Watson. He was staring out the window of his flat on Baker Street, absolutely bored, bored, BORED out of his mind. Sherlock was even considering turning to a certain white powder, just to feel ok again. But then he spotted something strange on the sidewalk. A sandy blond man was seemingly having a heated discussion with a woman and from the looks of it, things were not going well. After a bit, the man seemed to say something that really angered the blonde woman he was with, and she drew back her hand and slapped him before storming off. A domestic. How boring. Just as Sherlock was about to turn away from the window, the man started moving almost erratically and his movements sparked Sherlock's attention once more. The man stretched out his arms before him, fumbling to maneuver himself down the street as pedestrians curved their paths around him. That's when Sherlock realized… the man was blind. Of course! How hadn't he seen the dark glasses and immediately realized it? And his girlfriend – girlfriend? Yes, he hadn't seen a ring on the woman's finger when the offending hand slapped the man- had left him to defend himself on the street. Suddenly struck with a very, un-Sherlock pang of pity for the man, the dark-haired detective leapt out of his seat by the window, raced down the stairs and out the door, wrapping a scarf around his neck as he did so. When he burst out the door, he scanned the sidewalk where he had last seen the sandy-haired man and spotted him only a few meters away. He walked up to him and cleared his throat; "Ahem, sir? You're about to trip on a loose brick on the pavement."

"What?" said the other man, whipping his head in the direction of the deep voice as he took another step forward and consequently stumbled on the brick Sherlock had mentioned.

As he began to tumble forward, Sherlock grabbed the shorter man firmly by the shoulders and straightened him.

"Ahem, you were going to fall and this pavement isn't exactly the most forgiving."

"The blond haired man looked up in the direction of the voice, his dark glasses slightly askew on his face from the tumble.

"That's uh, fine. Uh, thank you for helping me there, I'm a little too proud to use a cane and well…"

"Your girlfriend left you." The Curly-haired man finished for him, matter-of-factly.

A flash of visible pain crossed the blind man's countenance and his hand went up to the now growing red mark on his cheek from she had slapped him.

"Yeah, you, uh heard that?"

"All of Baker Street heard that row."

"Baker Street? Is that where I am?" questioned the man, turning around, as if forgetting he was blind.

"I'm all the way in the city! This is ridiculous! How in the bloody hell am I supposed to get back to my flat now?!" stuttered the man, his face reddening with anger and confusion.

Sherlock studied him for a second; debating on if he should invite the man in. As he scanned his highly trained eyes, he could see that the man was in his early thirties, still not married and probably, after that row, single. He was either raised by military parents or in the military, judging by his haircut and defiance in using a cane and seemed in need of some tea before he really blew a gasket. Sherlock peered at the dark sunglasses that were perched on the man's face and wondered how blind the man was, considering he would almost forget about it. He couldn't have been born blind; the man's movements were in no way trained to function without his eyesight to guide him.

"Follow me, Mrs. Hudson will make you a cuppa," said the dark haired man, temporarily pausing the other's rant about poorly made street walks.

"I, uh, don't exactly know you; you could be a murderer for all I know."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, almost glad the man couldn't see him.

"Do you want some tea or not? You don't exactly have a way to hail a taxi right or a way to get home right now."

A frown settled on the blind man's face and he sighed.

"Fine, why the hell not? Lead the way."

**Alright you guys, this is my first time writing anything like this in 6 years. I recently remembered this website and I figured I would try my hand at a short, maybe 5 or 6 chapter story, if anyone likes it. If not, I'll just slink back into my dark corner of the internet. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
